wash: soul

whatever ... index of ... another dumb series. i dive into the dust searching for bones. my eyes kiss sand: no change at all. i cannot see the pattern: every rupture, every fastforward leads to the same place; the same emptiness. i cannot stand this openness: the hell of being so visibly visible: on stage all the time. everyone's happy but ... i will never be able to wash my soul again.

::: on somedays, together we can learn :::

sArTRe

so solid ... not in time: push/forget. la dernière femme fatale: one dream leads to the wasteland, the other to eternity. your ringing guitar over cloudy satellites. the action: zig-zag, unmotivated, life without a precedent. so solid, so vain. i blush when i see them open. i blush when i try not to whisper just any name. i blush when i vanish. i blush with every your thought my eyes feed my mind. try to speak about the hell of the others. then. f. y. s.

::: words they meant nothing so you can't hurt me i said words they mean nothing so you can't stop me :::

element

i sit on my balcony in front of the element ... thinking ... how to express love in four binary digits ... the sun is grey just like the woods over there. i try to approach the element but its configuration is so different that i have to learn my eyes new ways back in the world and then perhaps when i return back they will fall in love with its seductive geometry ...0110... hello.

::: it's so cold in this house open mouth swallowing us :::